1. Tangled

I usually never go see movies in theatres, but various circumstances came together to lead me to see Tangled, which Wikipedia says is the 50th Disney Animated Classic. Is it really? Somehow I thought that there would be more, considering they'd gone as far (low?) as to create movies like Lion King 1 1/2. Come on now.

Ever since I discovered the beauty of Studio Ghibli, I've been unable to take Disney seriously, but Tangled was cute, old-school, and generally enjoyable. I was a little wary when the movie began with a voiceover by Flynn Rider talking directly to the audience, but thankfully that was short. I'd forgotten what the real story of Rapunzel was about, so I did spend a small part of my concentration wondering what creative licenses Disney had taken, but the story flowed well and most of the characters were rather endearing. I'm sort of over the whole animal-sidekick(s)-as-comic-relief thing, even though I actually did like Pascal and Maximus, even though the former had no business being named after a mathematician and the latter looked like a cow that acted like a dog.

For some reason I'd decided somewhere along the line that Mandy Moore was an overhyped cute face, but she can actually sing. Oops.

Lady Gothel is pure evil. Damn, she is good.

So there is, of course, a scene in which Flynn Rider ridiculously tells Rapunzel that she is his "new dream," because there is no reason a law-breaking playboy shouldn't fall in love with a sheltered 18-year-old in a span of two days. Even though it's a Disney movie, and therefore they obviously have to get married and live happily ever after, I was seized by a very strong desire to yell out that it was probably all a lie. I don't yell in movie theatres, though, or many public places, and I didn't want to dash the hopes and dreams of all of the 8-year-olds in the audience besides. Sigh.

A Year's Accountability

1. Learn United States customary units.
2. Learn about the technicalities behind my camera functions.
3. Make a perfectly fluffy sponge cake.
4. Apply to medical school.
5. Learn NYC geography.
   
6. Have one of my recipes achieve 話題入り status.
7. Read 50 books, of which three must be The Lord of the Rings trilogy.
8. Learn Japanese geography.
9. Fall in love with someone who doesn't make me hate myself.
10. Watch 12 movies.
11. Travel to 5 completely new places.
12. Get drunk, if only just once.
    

That College-Dream Life

24 hours ago I was angry at having a Godot, but then I decided to watch Eat Pray Love. I wanted something to relax to that was a step above the typical romantic comedy, and this movie fulfilled this requirement by about a hair.

I really despise Kate Chopin's The Awakening. This means that I despise selfish lead females who destroy their marriages and families and those who depend of them in search of something bigger and better. Elizabeth Gilbert doesn't want to listen to her husband talk about going back to school for a degree in education, and her solution to this is divorce, followed by a soul-searching global trip? Please.

It doesn't help that I'm one of the few people in the United States who is not a Julia Roberts fan or admirer, but in any case this film was an exercise in self-indulgence and fantasy. In Italy, the main character eats a napoleon for breakfast, then proceeds to demonstrate poor pasta-eating table manners. In India, she finally works up the nerve to actually end things with the James Franco character, because she was too self-absorbed to do it before she climbed into the taxi in New York. In Bali, she disregards her hosts' express wishes and the importance of preserving cultural relics by photocopying a manuscript. Her overnight mastery of Italian was too much to take, as was her seamless adaptation to Indian culture. Seriously, she probably had more of a culture shock when she realized how her baths in Italy would be drawn.

The film acts as if Liz learns a lot and becomes a completely new person, but in fact that is not altogether clear. Roberts' voiceovers tell the viewers that her character has learned a lot, but there is little to actually demonstrate that. Riding off into the sunset because a medicine man tells her about balance? Come on. All the audience learns is that Liz is a self-important feminist who is always impatient for results, just like the typical modern American but with a little extra money.

おしらさま vs. 大根、、、

http://faithrm.blog.so-net.ne.jp/upload/detail/xVzWy_jS.jpg.html

http://headlines.yahoo.co.jp/hl?a=20101202-00000014-kana-l14.view-000

Milking It For All It's Worth

Like most people, last weekend I went to go see Part 1 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I am generally in agreement that it was one of the better, if not the best, of the movies so far, but this doesn't mean that it didn't have ridiculous or terrible moments. Unlike Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, this was actually a film that had to take place in the magical world instead of in any random setting with teenagers. Because I am not in the mood to put this in a cohesively flowing manner:

• There is just no way around it: Daniel Radcliffe and Rupert Grint become less attractive with every passing movie. It is probably a bad sign for Radcliffe that he is more attractive in character than he is on the red carpet.
• When a close-up of Cornelius Fudge opened the movie, I knew it was all over--all I could see was Billy Mack from Love Actually. It's not quite the association that makes for dark and serious times.
  
• I know that this was taken straight from the book, but did any of the characters really find it all that surprising that their plan to move Harry from Privet Drive was discovered? It's not suspicious at all that seven pairs of people suddenly take off flying at once, or that a crazed one-eyed man is yelling "Ready! Set! GO!" at the top of his lungs in a quiet neighborhood. I can be all for theatrics, but come on.
• Radcliffe is an even more awkward dancer than I am. Also, it is puzzling to me that of all the scenes that the writers could have included courtesy of the doubled available film time, a dancing scene between Harry and Hermione was chosen. Character development? Maybe. But this over scenes that establish the threat towards Muggles, where the Dursleys went, what Hermione's parents are doing, and what Hogwarts is like now?
• Biggest tool ever: "My father will hear about this!"
• Why did Hermione and Harry wish each other a "Merry Christmas" instead of a "Happy Christmas"?
• The three actors who played the unfortunately chosen employees at the Ministry of Magic were surprisingly good. They didn't have the luxury of acting anything by voice, and yet Harry, Ron, and Hermione's emotions came through brilliantly. It was uncanny how they all vaguely looked like their counterparts.
• The writers may have been smart enough to have Harry make fun of Ron's description of the light hitting his heart, but still, no. Just no.
• Ginny Weasley's dress at the wedding was so beautiful. But asking Harry to zip her up in the middle of the kitchen? Surely she could have found another person and place.
• I understand that Hermione prepared ahead of time by packing the "essentials" into her purse, but the extent of the three friends' wardrobe while on the run rivals mine in my own apartment. Emma Watson might be fun to dress, but keeping Hermione trendy when she didn't even know it was Christmas Eve is an inconsistent move to say the least.
• In general, Watson outacts Radcliffe and Grint here, although it's not like that bar is particularly high.
• I love that Michael Gambon was credited in huge letters at the end.
• Dobby. =(
  

The Aspic Police

I've been in a bit of a cooking obsession lately, mostly fueled by Cookpad and facilitated by the free time that a full-time job offers (ironic, isn't it?). Even though I started out my 一人暮らし with the intention of eating my way through steamed vegetables and pasta (seriously, I ate pasta 90% of the time two summers ago and actually didn't mind it all that much), the luxury of having a small kitchen all to myself, a refrigerator too full of groceries that my mother left me, and a sense of needing to accomplish something led me to start investigating actual cooking more thoroughly. Anyway, the point here isn't to talk about the thought process behind my cooking, but rather about Julie & Julia.

I had, of course, known about this film when it was first released, but for whatever reason I was never all that interested in watching it. However, ever since I started following New Dress a Day, which was inspired by the film, seeing it has sort of persistently been at the back of my mind. And then, about a week ago, I read that Olga had recently just watched it and felt inspired to learn how to cook. And so I decided that it was my new must-see.

I don't really follow movies all that much. I usually know what's out there and what's a hit and what's a waste of time, but it tends to take a lot to actually make me sit down and watch something. So when I do watch something, it sort of really needs to be worth it. And this movie was, if only for the colors and most amazing sets. Obviously almost everyone knows the premise of Julie & Julia and it was never my intention to recap an entire film, so instead I'm just going to post some of the best moments, visually.

This is just so... Paris. I spent most of the two hours wishing I were in France or even Europe again, and being jealous of the people who "studied" abroad but really just country-hopped very inexpensively. I know that this is supposed to be post-WWII Paris, but really, these scenes (minus the vested boy on a bicycle and that car) could be from today.

Yellow and red is possibly one of the worst color combinations ever, but here? Using subtle shades of the two colors make it beautiful.

Okay, so this is not beautiful or artistic, but I have the same (stupid) kitchen timer at home and sort of got excited. It is stupid because there is no way to go up or down, so if you wanted 0:45 but accidentally held the button down too long and released at 0:46, well, you have to press Start, then Stop, then Clear, and then get to 0:45 all over again. Stupid.

Turquoise walls, creamy yellow and light brown furniture, pots and pans that aren't colorful on their own but together make for a great collage...

And of course, Paul loves Julia and Eric loves Julie, more than anything, and I really want to know what that is like. I won't think too much about this part, because then I'll start having dreams of you in a black jacket again.

Kaia Kanepi vs. Renee Zellweger/Bridget Jones

http://www.workingtitlefilms.com/newsArticle.php?newsID=12

お弁当映画館

奇麗過ぎて、食べられない！Amazing.
http://ameblo.jp/ikkunmama/theme-10008070154.html

もののけ姫
Princess Mononoke

千と千尋の神隠し
Spirited Away

となりのトトロ
My Neighbor Totoro

魔女の宅急便
Kiki's Delivery Service

ハウルの動く城
Howl's Moving Castle

Life vs. Art

Is this mean?

http://headlines.yahoo.co.jp/hl?a=20100825-00000008-jijp-int.view-000

The Borrowers!

The Borrowers! Will be coming to (Japanese) theatres on July 17, 2010! I am so excited. Not only is The Borrowers an awesome children's book, Studio Ghibli is making this film, which means that the adaptation will be great (although perhaps a little liberal for some hardcore fans of the original book). I hope that with all of this interest in Japan, interest in Miyazaki specifically (although he is not the director of this film even though he is involved in it), and the Animated Feature category at the Academy Awards, this film will find a way into the United States, following Spirited Away, Howl's Moving Castle, and Ponyo.

Not much has been released on this adaptation so far, but it will be called 「借りぐらしのアリエッティ」(Arietty, of the Borrowing Lifestyle?), and the visuals are beautiful already. Maybe I can find a way to conveniently be in Japan over the summer, since I actually have (other) legitimate reasons to be there...

Ponyo, Ponyo, Ponyo...

...魚の小 was not on the list of Academy Award nominations that came out yesterday. Sigh. The Japanese media seems very disappointed, but I'm not entirely surprised because it was a Japanese movie that didn't quite have the force or grandeur of Spirited Away, or the aesthetics of either that or Howl's Moving Castle. Still, though, it enjoyed the widest release in the United States of all of Miyazaki's movies, and the nomination category is Animated Feature. Not exactly the biggest field out there. Plus the number of nominees was expanded from three to five. It actually bothers me quite a bit that The Princess and the Frog should beat out any Miyazaki, but I suppose that's the way things go. I'm not sure what the exact basis is for these nominations (is it storyline? animation style? I'm assuming it's both, but does the Academy have a bias for one or the other?), but I find the aesthetics of 3D animation tend to be crude. The movements come in swift motions rather than smooth arcs, the bodies tend to be distorted (why?) and personally it distracts me and feels amateurish. Actually Disney has this problem in its 2D animation, so who knows, maybe it's just a part of American animation tradition in general.

I'd forgotten that Coraline was released for this cycle of the Academy Awards. I was not a fan of the visuals for the reasons above, but the story was pretty cool and definitely memorable. There was something chilling about the incongruence between the medium and the plot (although making this into a live-action would have been a terrible decision), and there was a good bit of voice acting involved. Although I haven't seen three of the five nominated movies, I'd say Coraline would be pretty deserving of the Oscar, except it won't win.

What will win is Up, which in contrast is just a feel-good animation movie without particular depth. I found the talking dogs as well as the recurring joke about their obsession with squirrels kind of inane, although pretty much everybody in the movie theatre disagreed with me. All of the characters were animated in fairly generic/stereotypical ways, and it was the "cuteness" of the storyline and not necessarily the character development itself that endeared figures such as Carl to the audience. But hey, if everyone eats it all up, why not. Winning combination.

An Education: He Has a Tree Growing on His Chest

Last night I saw my first movie of 2010: An Education!


I have to say, I was much more excited going into the theatre than I was coming out of it, but my opinion has been tempered somewhat after reading the excerpt from Lynn Barber's memoir of the title, on which this movie was based. There is something very different about the tone of the movie and the tone of the memoir, which probably accounts for the difference in reception and believability.

Anyway, as for the movie itself: it is beautiful, at least aesthetically. Carey Mulligan (Jenny) is pretty in a very believable sort of way, in that she could very well exist in someone's classroom and be called the cute or pretty one, but subtly, so that the full weight of this prettiness would only reveal itself slowly. Her school uniform was a little Harry Potter-esque, but her clothes once she begins dating David are gorgeous and unique. Of course the flowered dress from the poster is beautiful, as is this red-and-white one to which this picture does no justice:


The scenes of David and his friends' lives were rich and beautiful as well, albeit in slightly stereotypical ways, and it was fairly easy to get wrapped up in their fantasy world of lavish amusements and worldly, dreamy experiences. That being said, the contrast between Jenny's school life and love life was sometimes too much; she was by far the prettiest girl in her class (as if they made a point of purposely casting average to less-than-average students), and she was far taller and more developed than either of her two closest friends (although this may be due to the fact that Carey Mulligan is 24 rather than 16...).

Plot-wise, Jenny's need to escape and experience the world was very apparent, and upon reflection it makes clear that she fell for David because of what he could offer, not for who he was. This probably would have made more sense had the director chosen to portray Jenny in the sulky, ungrateful way Lynn Barber says she behaved, since in the movie it seems plausible that in fact Jenny enjoys both her circumstances and everyone in her company. Everything David does (starting with leaving the flowers on her doorstep, if not before), is undeniably creepy and sleazy, and it was amazing to me that Jenny could have needed an outlet so desperately as to put up with it. Barber's account makes it more plain that she never found her boyfriend attractive, and in fact liked his friend Danny much more (which was displayed well in the film through the characters' respective chemistries with each other). There is also something rather infuriating about Jenny's character development; she turns on her boyfriend without even any sort of a proper goodbye (and I believe his gravest offenses were being adorably awkward and giving her the same New Latin Dictionary for her birthday as her father), and talks back to her teacher and headmistress in ways that I can't even imagine would be allowed now, even in the most lenient of circumstances (and much less post-war England).

As a college student one semester from graduating after spending years and years studying and stressing, it was in some ways sad to see this film. I want to see the world before I decide what I want to do with my life (currently: no idea), and most of all I want to go back to Paris and do whatever I want to do, without a silly two-and-a-half-day itinerary and parentally conceived notions of what we should see. There was something remarkably alluring about the lavish, excessive life, even though I actually get very uncomfortable with unnecessary extravagance. This feeling would have been erased had the ending (see below, complete with spoilers) not been what it was, but as it was what it was, this feeling remains.

Which brings me to the ending: after getting engaged (which surprised me a little), Jenny discovers that David is actually married (not surprising, although I more expected him to get arrested), stupidly thinks that he will actually own up to this (he does not), delays her Oxford entrance examinations by a year so she can study, and... gets in. I could not accept that she got in. I understand that this was her goal and supposed destiny, but it just seems that she learned nothing from her experience. (Nor could I accept the smallness of the Oxford envelope, or the gimmicky way in which Jenny pretends to be upset by her letter but is actually very pleased.) Jenny ends up where she always wanted to end up, with a year-long, whirlwind detour in between that enriched her cultural life, apparently without a scratch to show for it. She gets away with blaming her parents for her failed engagement, even though she was the one who knew he was involved in shady and/or illegal activities and chose to ignore them because she loved his life too much. I was temporarily pleased when the headmistress refused to allow her back into school, but then her English teacher comes to the rescue and so Jenny gets away with that too.

And so I (along with my friends) left the movie with a sense of dissatisfaction, for if Jenny got to go to Oxford after having this fabulous interruption, why couldn't we? Her parents to some extent very much reminded me of mine, and it seemed so unjust that we would end up in the same place (metaphorically) via completely different paths.

That is, until I read the excerpt from Lynn Barber's memoir. In one sense her memoir does little to change Jenny's characterization as a shielded, immature girl; Barber knew all along that David (or rather Simon) was stealing and bouncing checks, and did nothing about it, keeping her parents believing that he was as perfect as they believed. When the truth came out about his wife, Barber writes that her parents were genuinely shocked, and yet has no qualms about blaming them for pushing her into engagement (and apparently has not changed her attitude since). Does she really think she has no role to play in this? But in another sense her memoir reveals that indeed Barber did learn from her experience ("But there were other lessons Simon taught me that I regret learning. I learned not to trust people; I learned not to believe what they say but to watch what they do; I learned to suspect that anyone and everyone is capable of "living a lie". I came to believe that other people - even when you think you know them well - are ultimately unknowable. Learning all this was a good basis for my subsequent career as an interviewer, but not, I think, for life."), and as a result her acceptance to St. Anne's College at Oxford seems much more natural and justified. The movie lacks in a significant way by failing to fully reveal the extent of Barber's emotional scarring and growth; the last voice-over from Jenny is too carefree, too smug, and too innocent to come from a teenager who went through what she did.

Overall, An Education is a pleasant way to spend an hour and a half, even if the ending does tend to damage it all. Alfred Molina as Jenny's father is absolutely hysterical, as is some of the awkwardness between Jenny and David. It leaves me satisfied in a sad way to know that Barber, if not Jenny, truly was educated, and that her acceptance to Oxford did nothing to allow her to forget.